


Perfect Canvas

by PilgrimKitty



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bloodplay, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Serial Killers, killer!klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilgrimKitty/pseuds/PilgrimKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine have a special kind of making love, whenever they find a new boy to play with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me wants to apologize for this, but the other part of me thinks that apologizing for hard kinks is a form of self kink-shaming. So I'll merely say please don't read this if you're squicked by bloodplay, murder, death and violence within sexual situations.
> 
> I may eventually expand this verse, I'm unsure at this moment.

“Yeah,” Kurt exhaled in a seductive whisper, “do it, Baby. Do it.” 

Kurt’s arms held the boy draped over his lap still. He was drugged, but still awake. Blaine straddled the boy’s legs and leaned over to kiss Kurt. Blaine’s lover tasted like sweat and cum from their earlier activities with the boy they’d met at a new club they’d just discovered. Blaine didn’t even remember the boy’s name, but that was all right. Kurt always remembered their names. Blaine just had to concentrate on his part.  
The knife was a shiny silver X-Acto special, and Blaine twirled it between his fingers, a skill learned from Kurt. Blaine held the point so it hovered above the boy’s bare chest.

“Should I draw you a pretty picture?” Blaine asked in a whisper. They always whispered when they did this, just like they always whispered when they made love. And this was a piece of that. One of their favorite styles of lovemaking.

“Yesssssss,” Kurt hissed, holding the boy down hard in his lap. Blaine didn’t have to check to know that Kurt was hard underneath the half conscious boy, his perfect cock rubbing against the boy’s neck.

“Should we cuff him?” Blaine asked.

“Nah, I gave him one and a half, and he’s a skinny thing,” Kurt said. ”Draw me a picture, Blaine.”

Blaine draw the razorblade across the boy’s chest, using the silver penhandle of the knife to control the pattern. Dark blood pooled up across tanned skin. Blaine etched flower petals around the boy’s nipples. The boy made something that might have been a scream if he wasn’t so drugged out.

“Shh, Ray,” Kurt said, stroking the boy’s cheek. ”You said you wanted to be our art.”

The boy, Ray, Blaine supposed, tried to babble something, but Kurt continued to stroke their canvas lovingly. He was gorgeous. Almost no scars and no tattoos or piercings. A true blank page.

Blaine continued his art, pausing momentarily to suck a bit of blood off Ray’s nipple, then catch Kurt’s mouth in another kiss. Kurt moaned into Blaine’s mouth, and thrust involuntarily against Ray’s neck.

“If you get off against the boy, how am I going to ride you when I’m done?” Blaine asked playfully, holding the blade out for Kurt to lick off a bit of the blood. They didn’t indulge in the blood often, but Ray had been a virgin, and—based on his reaction to Blaine offering pot—had never done any drugs before. He was a good one. Often they had mind-addled addicts to work with, but Ray was their luckiest find. 

“I can’t help it Blaine, you’re so gorgeous when you work. Keep going,” Kurt said.

“Help me draw?” Blaine asked, handing Kurt another blade. Kurt smiled up at him and the two cut patterns into the beautiful skin, then, when they tired of it, began to finger-paint with the blood, stopping occasionally to share kisses and lick each other’s fingers. 

There was a gagging noise and the two lovers looked at their canvas. He was choking on his own vomit.

“Crap, I gave him too much,” Kurt said. ”Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaine said. ”Now we don’t have to worry about slitting his throat. Let’s keep painting. He’s so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” Kurt said, pulling Blaine into a kiss, smearing blood across the nape of Blaine’s neck as they kissed. Blaine sneaked a hand between them and pumped Kurt’s cock as the kissed over the dying boy between them.

“Fuck me, Kurt,” Blaine begged.

“Are you done with him? If we take a while your paint won’t be so pretty.”

“I’m done,” Blaine said. 

“Then get over here,” Kurt instructed. Blaine practically threw himself onto the cheap motel bed. They’d paid cash for the room, in some seedy motel in a city they’d never visited before. They’d do the tourist thing tomorrow. Maybe. Kurt had stripped the motel comforter off the bed hours ago, he hated those things so much. Blaine lay on the plain white sheet, already marked with Ray’s blood and waited while Kurt fetched the lube. He licked his lips to taste the blood and moaned as he felt the bed shift with Kurt’s weight, and fingers back at his entrance again. It had been only hours since the last time they’d done this, prep was quick and easy. When Kurt thought Blaine was ready, he nudged him to roll over.

It was always best face to face. Blaine loved looking at Kurt like this. His torso painted with large streaks of red, some of it already getting a brownish cast as it dried. Their eyes met and Blaine remembered how much he loved the perfect man slowly sliding inside him. They were made for each other, the two of them. Both riding the endorphin high of their favorite special occasion activity.

Kurt slid in slowly, his eyes locked on Blaine’s, and Blaine wrapped his legs around Kurt, trying to draw him in further.

“I love you,” Blaine whispered.

“Love you too,” Kurt promised. ”Ready?”

Blaine nodded, and Kurt began thrusting. Kurt moved a hand between him to stroke Blaine’s cock as he fucked his black-haired lover. Kurt let out a groan as Blaine raked his fingernails hard down Kurt’s back, and picked up the pace, thrusting harder and faster. Blaine let out a breathy moan with every thrust.

“Oh God,” Blaine gasped. ”Love you. So perfect.”

Kurt leaned forward and licked the side of Blaine’s neck, picking up the salty, coppery trail of blood before sucking a mark onto Blaine’s skin. 

“Oh God,” Blaine moaned again, as Kurt bit down hard, biting down as his came inside Blaine. With two strokes of Kurt’s hand, Blaine was coming across their bellies. Kurt collapsed on top of his lover as his cock softened.

“God, Kurt, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Blaine whispered as he held his lover close against him.

“You’ll never have to find out,” Kurt promised.

~

In an hour or two, they’d shower, take a few pictures for their scrapbook, clean up a bit, douse the room in gasoline and burn down the motel. But for the time being, they were happy together, in each other’s arms.

*!*


End file.
